So this new lingo quirk is just so-so

Among the many profound questions occurring to me at this point in life is one relating to the word "so."

Can somebody explain why people launch almost every sentence with "So" these days -- as if we are in the middle of some eternal conversation and you-know-who hasn't been paying attention?

I was at a meeting of university folks a couple of weeks ago.

"So, we continue to attack recruitment issues," began one administrator.

"So, we know students will consider a variety of options," said another.

"So, we have a steering committee," said the first.

This is the kind of thing -- among many others -- that makes me wonder if maybe I have missed an important memo and might as well stop, once and for all, trying to be a modern guy.

For a long while, my daughter told me I needed a smartphone like the one that seems to have sprouted in the middle of her hand. It is not often that I see my daughter without her smartphone, in fact, except when she puts it down next to her plate at meals.

"No," I said, "I don't want a smartphone, I will stick with the one that I bought, oh, almost 10 years ago, despite its low SATs."

"Dad, really, you could use it to surf the Web," my daughter insisted, "and also read email away from home."

I explained I had no interest in reading email away from home -- oh, look, a bulletin from Amazon on local car wash deals! -- and rested my case.

My daughter persisted, until recently. The subject of smartphones somehow came up again, and, once more, I said, no thanks, not me. The mood suddenly turned solemn, even ominous.

"You're right," my daughter said. "Forget about it. My mistake."

"Really?" I said.

"Really," said my daughter, adding that she did not intend to discuss the matter again.

She doesn't have to. I know what happened. In rejecting so emphatically the most obvious symbol of contemporary with-it-ness, I had become officially Beyond Hope. Out of Touch. Impossible. Reason could not prevail with a person of my stunted vision. Forget about it. Read your email every three weeks, or don't read it at all. Fine.

That little family drama brings us back to "so."

What accounts for the word's ascendancy?

Experts say "so" is the new, "um," or "well," or "you know," and let's not forget the official sentence spacer of Long Island, "like." ("So, like, um, well, you know, see ya later." That sort of thing.) Or maybe "so" is a way of buying time when you don't know the answer to a question -- quick, what's the population of the world? -- or, on the other hand, showing off when you do. ("So, there are 7 billion people on Earth. Glad you asked.")

For an article in the Chronicle of Higher Education, Ben Yagoda counted the number of times "so" was used in a particular National Public Radio interview and placed the tally at 45 for a brief exchange related to outer space. An epidemic, for sure. It's a wonder the FCC didn't step in.

According to Michael Lewis, author of "The New New Thing," the "so" craze began with software wizards in Silicon Valley, those irrepressible geniuses who can't wait to hatch the newest billion-dollar breakthrough and who, naturally, feel as though there is no beginning or end to anything. "So" suits them perfectly.

But that's California, a state where the former governor left politics to resume his Hollywood career as an American shoot-'em-up idol with a heavy-duty Austrian accent. It is not clear that we can take seriously anything that happens in California.

A friend of mine from a former life at Newsweek magazine wrote a lovely epitaph for the print product -- yes, Newsweek is only online now -- and began this way: "So Newsweek's print version is officially gone . . ."

I told my pal I liked the piece but wondered why he began with "So."

"Wow," he answered (by email). "Confess I hadn't given it much thought. To me it's just conversational and, in this case, I guess a way of dressing up a statement of the obvious with a little two-letter opener that suggests we need to chat and here's the topic."

Maybe that's it. Maybe all "so" signifies is a yearning to "chat," to stay connected, to escape silence. In a way, "so" could even be a little pushback against the smartphone imperative -- an invitation to put the thing away and look one another in the eye and join the conversation already in progress.

But, I'm not so sure. I worry that this is just another sign that I am dreadfully out of step and falling further behind. That I am, after all, beyond hope, out of touch and, so, like, you know, impossible.

So, we don't all speak like "Downton Abbey" characters; not on Long Island, anyway. In fact, many of us are quickly identified as "New Yawkers" when we open our mouths in other parts of the country. We think we're hip, but sometimes, even we have to check the Urban Dictionary to understand what younger generations are saying. Do you have a true story you'd like to share involving diction, slang or bad grammar? Mispronunciations or misuse of words that make you want to scream? Or about breaking yourself of, you know, annoying speech patterns? Email act2@newsday.com, or write to Act 2 Editor, 235 Pinelawn Rd., Melville, NY 11747. Include your name, address and phone numbers.